


liūdna

by crowkistvaen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: !! warning !! no happy ending!!, (a lot), (but just for the Aesthetic™), (just a lil), Alcohol Abuse, Animal Death, Blood, Content warnings:, M/M, Mild Gore, Paranoia, Suicide mention, Surveillance, also hands and elbows but shhh, also i write a lot about eyes, also should mention: lotsa mental illness shit bc i wrote most of this at a Bad Time, an attempt at horror, another mention: this fic is shitty, but i also download all my fic bc theres no wifi at my house so, crude language, extra mention: i dont like the sans serif font ao3 uses on a browser, hes still present he just isnt named, i just really like writing descriptions ok, i really like the serif font you get when you download fic, im rambling, its basically just me projecting all my problems onto feliks, lapslock for the whole thing, multichapter but the chapters are really short, originally written to vent but after some editing i really liked it, recommend you download this when its all up, sex mention, so sue me theyre poetic, sorry - Freeform, the only thing my lesbian ass likes more than tiddy is eyes, thought id throw that in there, tolys isnt actually named, unauthorized use of the word 'vantablack', unnecessarily long and convoluted descriptions, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowkistvaen/pseuds/crowkistvaen
Summary: jeepers creepers!





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> the black dog in the ruins is howling your name.

feliks hated this house.  
it was in the middle of nowhere, on the outskirts of a tiny town. he hated it. hated the whole damn town. they had nothing. just him and his little clinic. he made hardly any money, but in the end that was fine, since he’d inherited his sister’s fortune. he had no idea where it had come from—she’d lived in this exact same place and done the exact same thing, and lord knows feliks wasn’t making thousands an hour. he suspected less-than-legal doings, but he didn’t complain. he wasn’t one to look the gift horse in the mouth, whatever that means. if his sister said that he had to live in this dumpy old house and work in this dinky clinic for her money, he would do that. having such financial security was a new feeling, and he loved it. even if he hated the conditions.  
he would do anything to hang on to his newfound riches.


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> step away from the window. close the blinds. go back to sleep.

the winds in this fuckin’ place talked.  
they told him nasty, nasty things, carried too-familiar voices and echoes of harsh words. feliks didn’t know if anyone else heard the things the winds said, or if they heard the same things he did. he didn’t know and he didn’t really care.  
sometimes the winds said things that scared him, though.  
they whistled through the broken window in the clinic’s storage space on particularly bad days, days when he was feeling damn close to just swallowing a couple hundred pills and falling dead on the floor. they said things. his father’s words, ugly and harsh, too much. forgotten voices on the winds. painful memories. things he drank to forget.  
usually he could tolerate it, if he had enough patients or a good book. anything to distract him.  
once, during a storm, the winds had hissed through the shards of glass, angry and violent. they whispered long-dead names. feliks put his head in his hands and ignored them. but then they whispered the only long-dead name no one else was supposed to hear.  
_feliksas… oh, feliksas…_  
feliks boarded up the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay.  
> docs is shit.


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that thing keeps staring at us from the woods.

the townspeople told lots of stories. funny stories, sometimes. more often than not, ghost stories. feliks didn’t usually socialize with the townspeople, but sometimes they told him stories during appointments. sometimes he picked up on them with his excellent hearing, even if they were being told in his waiting room.  
they were particularly fond of stories about the monstrous canine that supposedly dwelled in the forest. some said it was a horribly mutated dog, or just a really big one. others called it a wolf, a big black wolf with fangs the size of fingers and sharp claws for gouging eyes out of heads. there was no shortage of stories about the cryptid canine, but they were always bloody and ended in somebody getting eaten. one story the townspeople seemed to tell a lot was the story of poor, foolish andželika and her tiny dog.  
andželika was a young woman, the aunt or cousin of one of the townspeople. she had lived here with her little dog, a pomeranian, but she was careless with him. she didn’t chain him up or keep him on a leash, and lo and behold, the big bad wolf that lived in the forest gobbled him up, and then it ate her, too. there were more details, but they varied from storyteller to storyteller.  
feliks empathized with andželika. he too had a dog, even if his was big and not a tiny, yappy pomeranian. vytautas also hated leashes and refused to wear them, so he had to take him out just without one. vytautas was jumpy, too, which made taking him for walks hell. feliks didn’t really believe the townspeople’s dumb stories as a rule, but sometimes when he was sitting in the tv room, staring at the empty tv screen with a bottle of alcohol in one hand, he could swear he felt a pair of eyes looking in through the window, watching him.  
he always left a hunk of raw meat outside the back door like the townspeople advised. just in case.  
you can never be too careful.


	4. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sky is still blue  
> the clouds come and go  
> yet something is different  
> the stars still shine bright  
> the mountains still high  
> yet something is different

something changed the day feliks came to town.  
everyone had loved his sister. she was patient and gentle and soft. but feliks was… not like that. he was irritable and rude and seemed to hate everyone, even the kindest people. especially the kindest people. they contrasted too much with his personality; reminded him of what he could have been, if he weren’t so bitter, so much like his father. more often than not, he reeked of alcohol. so different from his sister, who had always smelled like coconut and orange. she had drunk, too, of course, almost as often and as heavily as he had; but she had washed more often than him, and she had used a body wash that smelled nice. to cover up the stink.  
feliks hadn’t liked her very much. not because they were siblings. not because she dredged up painful memories. because she had been stronger than him. she had graduated top of her class, she had always had a smile and a kind word. he had nearly failed. he was bitter and grumpy and drank too much and it _showed._  
everyone loved his sister. no one loved him. and he was bitter.  
while it seemed to be feliks’ arrival in the town that triggered the change, the change itself didn’t have much to do with him. probably.  
it became colder. the winds’ whispered words became crueler. the trees’ rustling branches carried screams and terrible secrets.  
and the wolf that dwelled in the forest began to watch people again. watch with its eyes, green and hungry and mesmerizing, so that if you looked into them long enough, you started to lose touch with reality, and you could never look away.


	5. v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you heard them last night, for the first time since the beginning.

when feliks first moved in, the tv would sometimes turn on in the middle of the night.  
it didn’t play actual tv, like cable. they didn’t get that out here. it played horrible memories. they were mostly his sister’s. sometimes they were his. sometimes he didn’t recognize them, which presumably meant they belonged to other townspeople. watching other people’s worst memories… it was surprising how wrong it felt. he wouldn’t want other people to watch his memories. not like they could. only a couple other people had tvs, and theirs only played static or tapes. feliks didn’t know why their tv was different. or why his sister had kept the tv. he hated the stupid thing. he didn’t need it blaring his weakest moments. his screams and his secrets spilled out through the screen, and he didn’t need anyone else to hear them. he was already too self-conscious, too afraid of weakness.  
and it scared vytautas, so every time it turned on, the dog would bark and howl. he hated it when vytautas made such a ruckus. it triggered the memories, the ones that weren’t his yet. he had spent many a night curled up on the kitchen floor, pillow pulled over his ears, trying desperately to block out the noise as the tv broadcast pained cries and vytautas barked and yowled.  
one night, it turned on to an old memory. one of the most painful.  
the only reason feliks had kept the tv was so he could stare at the static while he drank until his head spun and he passed out. but this hurt him. his father’s voice. his own screams. this hurt.  
that night, he smashed the tv.


	6. vi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did you see that?

feliks saw things sometimes.  
not much. glimpses into a future, or someone else’s past. just little things, vague and unfocused. they irritated him, though. they had a nasty tendency to draw his attention away from conversations he was in the middle of having.  
he kept a strict journal. a remnant from the days when he had thought there might be some kind of coherence to the things he saw. now he knew there wasn’t, couldn’t possibly be, but he still wrote the memories down. they were a sort of exercise. he had wanted to be a writer since he was little, but it hadn’t worked out that way. so he wrote down his memories, and he tried to make them sound like something he might read in a novel.  
_panting in his ear. vividly sensual noises. nails scraping at his back, as if trying to rip the skin off his bones. it was warm. heat pooled in his groin. oh, god. teeth sinking into his flesh, drawing blood. it was frighteningly arousing. nails, raking across his back, too sharp to be human. he craned his neck. claws leaving gouges on his flesh. no, wait. teeth coming for his throat, sharpening, elongating, by the second. no, wait—_


	7. vii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> date the thing scaring your dog in the woods.

he was tall, and lean. a somewhat impressive musculature clung to otherwise bony arms covered in scars. there was something wrong about him, but feliks couldn’t place it. he didn’t belong here, that much he knew. but he had seen many cases like this. patients who felt wrong. like ghosts, almost. they didn’t belong in the material world. or maybe they just didn’t belong among humans. regardless, they were patients, and he patched them up and sent them on their way. he didn’t need to know their names or where they were from. he never saw them again.  
(sometimes he could swear there was one watching over him at night when the road was slippery and he was tired. but he never _saw_ them. besides, he was pretty sure he was just going crazy. living in this shitty little town where the winds talked to you and the trees knew your name would do that to you.)  
there was a wound on this patient’s leg. it was relatively large, definitely fresh, and extremely bloody. feliks didn’t even know where a wound like that might come from. after a bit of prodding, though, he determined it to be a fishhook wound. the hook must have been barbed, so that it tore the skin when the man tried to take it out.  
this was especially odd seeing as the town was nowhere near water, but feliks didn’t ask. he knew better than to question patients like this.  
“are you vaccinated?” he asked. “tetanus, you know….”  
the man didn’t respond.  
feliks sighed. okay, that had just been stupid.  
“never mind. you’re going to be fine,” feliks told him, trying to reassure him. he couldn’t tell if the man even needed reassuring. he seemed fairly calm for a guy with a giant wound in his leg.  
the man looked up at him. his gaze was intense, his eyes rich and green as the moss that grew on the forest floor. endless. mesmerizing. he was so _beautiful._ too beautiful to be human.  
humans didn’t have eyes like that.  
feliks shook his head. that was how they got you. with their eyes. you weren’t supposed to look into them. he had heard stories.  
he had a sudden memory, of thighs rubbing under the sheets, sharp nails scraping flesh. a secretive smile, sharp like the untrimmed nails leaving gouges on the flesh of his back. loud moans and soft words. those eyes. intense green, swirling like twin whirlpools in the murky darkness. sharp teeth ghosting over his exposed throat, sinking into his flesh, a piercing shriek—  
he shook his head again. he didn’t like that memory. it felt warm and sensual and dangerous. he was vulnerable. he couldn’t stand being vulnerable. that was why he never brought people home, never had sex. it left him vulnerable.  
(that and no one would have him.)  
silently, he vowed never to bring this one home, no matter how good he smelled, no matter how weak in the knees he made him feel. he just had to get through this one appointment. then he would be done. no sharp teeth ripping his throat out. no sharp nails ripping his back to shreds. he would never see this man again.  
god. he hated the memories. he never knew if they were someone else’s past or his own future. that one, he thought, probably belonged to someone else. but you can never be too careful. he had a lot of impulses, like the one telling him to have sex with this man (he was very attractive, and he smelled so damn _tasty),_ but nothing good ever came out of listening to them.  
he was in the middle of scrubbing at the man’s wound when a gravelly voice startled him nearly out of his skin.  
“feliksas,” the voice said.  
feliks blinked, trying to control the pounding of his heart in his chest. the man knew his name. how did he know his name? no one was supposed to know his name. he gave a fake one for a reason.  
“that’s not my name,” he mumbled. somehow, he felt like the man could see right through his lies. “i’m doctor kazlauskas.”  
“kazlauskas,” the gravelly voice repeated. the man’s fingers clutched the edge of the chair so hard his knuckles had gone white.  
maybe he didn’t really know his name. maybe he’d just said the first thing that came to mind. he was obviously in pain. maybe it was scrambling his brains.  
feliks empathized with that. he’d been in pain like that before.  
he shuddered at the memory. he knew that one was his, but that only made it more sour.  
“kazlauskas,” the man said again.  
feliks nodded. he was getting it. maybe he really had just said something random. he didn’t seem very coherent. hadn’t said a damn thing the whole time they’d been here.  
he began to bandage up the man’s leg, casting a glance up to make sure he was still conscious, no sudden nosebleeds or exploding eyeballs or anything. he had had a patient like that once. her eyeballs just popped like a couple of balloons. to this day he wasn’t sure how she did it, or why, or even if she’d done it on purpose. he never saw her again. he just knew he had to throw out his lab coat because the eyeball fluid wouldn’t wash out. it was disgusting.  
a glimpse of those eyes in his peripheral vision. they were so deep. like the universe. so rich. intense. tumultuous.  
darkness. thunder. lightning. rain falling on his head, chilling him to the bone. looming shadows all around him. branches reaching out to claw at his exposed flesh. something chasing him. flickers of something dangerous among the leaves. a glimpse of a smile, pointed and devious. fingers scraping at his back. whispered words on the wind trying to rip the skin off his bones. a root in his path. those eyes. those same eyes, green and shining hungrily as they descended.  
he shook his head. two related memories in a row—they were surely related, they both involved the same pair of eyes. unusual. they must be triggered by this man’s eyes, somehow, maybe.   
oh, he was done bandaging.  
good. he never wanted to see this man again.  
he stood. “done,” he said.  
the man looked at him. his thin, chapped lips parted into a smile, sharp and mischievous. “thank you,” he said. it sounded rehearsed, stilted. like he had spent time practising how to say it. like he had only memorized it phonetically and wasn’t quite sure how to pronounce it in this language and not his own.  
feliks directed him towards the door. “bye.”  
the man looked over his shoulder. feliks looked at the floor, trying hard to avoid looking into his eyes. “thank you,” the man repeated.  
“you’re welcome. now go home.” he pushed the man out the door and pulled it shut behind him. good riddance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [crypticdatesuggestions](https://crypticdatesuggestions.tumblr.com/)


	8. viii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that moon is no longer the moon. it’s a moon, definitely, but it’s not the same.

the sky was orange when feliks left the clinic, like usual, the sun dipping delicately behind the horizon. everything was cast in a soft golden-pinkish glow, and it made feliks feel sort of warm, almost.  
he got in his car. it smelled of cigarettes. he had bought a used citroën, years ago, and the previous owner must have been a smoker, as the whole thing just reeked. eugh.  
he started the car. his head pounded. he just wanted to be home, where he could sleep peacefully. he couldn’t stop thinking about that man. something about him was just so appealing.  
he let himself fantasize. it wasn’t like he was ever going to see him again.  
he drifted off, lost in his thoughts, as his subconscious drove the car on autopilot. he had gone down this way many times, and it was a mostly straight road anyway.  
it was dark by the time he got home. the moon hung high in the sky.  
he spared it but a glance, yet it was a glance that caught his eye and drew it away from the keys in his hand.  
the moon hung high in the sky. but it was a crescent. not, like, a waxing crescent. a crescent like in an animated movie. comically, impossibly slivered, and a shade of yellow normally seen in the petals of a daffodil.  
he was tired. “huh,” he said, and went to bed.


	9. ix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s been hanging around. haven’t seen it. but it’s definitely there. feel it out there.

that odd cryptid canine was watching him. he felt its eyes on him, just… watching. he had never seen it, but his skin prickled and erupted in gooseflesh when it watched, and so he knew.  
he had nightmares about it. bloody, gory nightmares. he would be taking vytautas for a walk and suddenly a big, vantablack wolf would set upon them, tearing off limbs and ripping into flesh. it was a very hungry beast.  
the nightmares were vivid. it _felt_ like he was being dismembered. he smelt the blood, felt the wet warmth on his skin. it was disconcerting, and he always woke up screaming, though the dreams mostly faded out of his memory once he was awake.  
he left hunks of raw meat outside his door, and the wolf was happy. but he didn’t expect that to last long. not with the way it watched him.


	10. x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people seem strange when you’re a stranger.

feliks didn’t feel right.  
something just felt… off. ever since he had touched that man. it felt like his otherness had rubbed off on his fingers. it was unbelievably strange.  
vytautas barked and growled and tried to bite him when he first came home. like he was someone else to his dog. it was nice to know vytautas would defend him from intruders, but that paled in comparison to the fact that his dog thought he was an intruder in his own house.  
feliks felt like he was in an alternate timeline. he felt wrong, but only a little. everyone else reacted to him a little differently. like he was new. they still didn’t like him, of course, but it felt guiltily good to be a stranger again. it was a fresh start, as they say.  
everyone always acted the same way now. they treated him like an outsider. he was an outsider, of course, but they hadn’t treated him that way before. they had treated him more or less the same way he imagined they’d treated his sister, if they hadn’t liked her as much.  
he existed separately from the rest of the town. could only understand his relationship with them through their words. he was different.  
he was a stranger. never mind if he’d been working here for years.  
he was strange, and no one bothered to ask him about himself. and if they had, he would have lied.  
so he was a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so legitimately sorry for using the word vantablack to describe the wolf but i really couldn’t think of a better word


	11. xi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some days it just doesn’t work.

feliks couldn’t stop thinking about that man. the big, strong, tall one with the fishhook in his thigh. and those _eyes._ god, those eyes. he could have stared into those eyes forever. sometimes, if he was distracted, he could force all thoughts of him from his mind, but other times, he couldn’t even hope to. at night, when he wasn’t dreaming of the wolf, he was dreaming of the man. racy dreams. wet dreams. he was glad he didn’t remember those in the morning. he didn’t need to know what kind of freaky stuff his mind could come up with.  
sometimes the dreams were less provocative and more terrifying. fingers scraping at his back. green eyes shining in the inky darkness. blood. screams.  
but feliks refused to even consider the possibility that he was in love. it was simple infatuation. lust, maybe. love was weakness for a man like him.  
besides, love was cutesy. it was supposed to make you happy. feliks sure as hell wasn’t happy. he couldn’t be in _love._ he didn’t know shit about romance. and he was just as miserable as he’d been before. love was supposed to be happy and cute and innocent. this was not. this was gross and wet and scary. exposed his soft parts. flaunted his vulnerabilities.  
this wasn’t love. it couldn’t be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cursedsuggestion](http://cursedsuggestion.tumblr.com)


	12. xii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he smells of incense and blood, sounds like foreign tongues and clashing metal, feels like holiness, feels corrupt.

it was pesach.  
feliks wasn’t religious, but he’d been raised a good jewish boy, and he still took holidays off. he liked to take as many vacations as he could. he usually spent them in a bigger city—riga or vilnius, sometimes even moscow or, if he was feeling particularly self-destructive, kraków. he liked being away from his new home. or maybe it was more accurate to say that he hated the little town with a passion and he wouldn’t spend his vacation time there if you paid him.  
anyway. it was pesach, and he was in vilnius. he spent most of his time in his hotel room, reading. there were no whispers on the winds to disturb him here. he went out around mealtimes to seek out nice restaurants to try, and sometimes in the evening he went to nightclubs and bars. nightclubs and bars made him nervous, and the strobing lights made him dizzy, but he was rather fond of drinking alone until he passed out. it wasn’t a healthy way to cope, but he didn’t care. he wasn’t going to live much longer. he had no future.  
besides, it ran in his family. his father drank himself to death. then his mother. then his sister. maybe if it was someone else, they might have sought help. they might have thought that a little strange, even. almost a curse.  
ah. not feliks.  
he went out to a nightclub that night, a cold night in april. there were posters plastered around town, full of colour and boasting about having some dj feliks had never heard of. he knew the address of the club. he went there and had begun to set himself up for a long night of silent drinking when he smelled something… off. sweet smoke and blood. not sweat and alcohol and young stupidity.  
he looked up.  
a young man standing nearby, talking to a pretty blonde woman in surprisingly unrevealing clothes for the hot, sweaty atmosphere of the club. he had dark hair, its colour obscured in the steamy darkness, but his nose was sharp and his body was tall and lean—in short, despite his choppy shoulder-length hairstyle, he looked exactly like the man that feliks had treated once, the one with the scars on his arms and the neat plait over his shoulder. down to the inhuman green eyes and that intoxicating scent.  
couldn’t be. couldn’t be. that man was… he was back home _(home,_ he thought with a sneer), wasn’t he? certainly wasn’t out here, enjoying the big city night scene.  
but those _eyes._ no human could have those eyes.  
feliks glanced over at the corner where he’d seen the two just seconds ago. but they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [vindictive-suggestion](http://vindictive-suggestion.tumblr.com/)


	13. xiii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crying is so defeating when you know no one will come.

feliks didn’t like to cry. it was dangerous, showing that much emotion. vulnerable. scared him to be that vulnerable.  
but sometimes, when he was _really_ feeling horrible, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.  
but with this wolf watching him, he absolutely refused to show any kind of crack in his mask. even though he _really_ felt horrible. what if he _was_ in love? what would he do then? he couldn’t be in love! he wasn’t ever going to see that man again!  
…then again, he had told himself that after their appointment, and then he had spotted him in vilnius. but he still wasn’t sure that that hadn’t just been a hallucination. he’d been sober when he’d seen it, sure, but you can hallucinate when you’re sober.  
his thoughts tormented him now. what was love? was this love? if it wasn’t, then what was it? lust? infatuation?  
he didn’t _know,_ and it drove him crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cursedsuggestion](http://cursedsuggestion.tumblr.com)


	14. xiv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i left the meat out at the usual spot. we should be safe now.

stupid wolf. after his poor dog.  
he knew it wanted just a big, tasty chunk of vytautas. mm-mm, dog meat, yum. every time they went out, hungry little growls in the shadows, eyes on them, needy little noises. once it stuck a paw out of its hiding spot and swiped at vytautas’ swooshy tail. vytautas barked and growled and turned to fight, but feliks calmed him down and led him back home before they got in any more trouble.  
even the meat, the big raw pieces he’d been leaving out on the doorstep, didn’t deter that dumb wolf. feliks just stopped leaving it there, because if the wolf was going to come after him anyway, he might as well save it for himself.  
so now the wolf was probably angry. and when he was feeling fed up and he didn’t feel that prickly feeling he got when the wolf was watching, he would lean out of his bedroom window and cuss the thing out at the top of his lungs. so it was probably _really_ angry.  
the townspeople weren’t gonna miss him. he had no one else. if the wolf came to take him, he’d probably let it.  
but not without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhgfhfjjkgf i am booboo the fool  
> been busy with a big fic sorry all  
> anyway im on [tumblr](http://dictatorshipoftheswoletariat.tumblr.com) if you want to talk or whatever


	15. xv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am terrified. i think too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited out the last chapter, sorry if it doesn’t make sense i refuse to read this

“morning,” feliks grunted to his secretary. he was in an especially bad mood today. this morning, on the shitty country hardly-a-road he had to take to get to this hellhole, he’d narrowly avoided hitting a deer. damn thing didn’t even move as he rapidly neared. not very bright, he presumed.  
“oh, doctor kazlauskas, there’s a patient in your office,” his secretary told him.  
he stopped and turned to her, irritated. “why?”  
“he really wanted to see you.”  
he didn’t know who the fuck it could possibly be. who would want to see _him?_ he was a mess.  
grumbling, he stepped into his office, only to find the man sitting there in his chair.  
yes, _that_ man. the one he had tortured himself for days over, trying to tell if he was in love with him or not.  
he waved enthusiastically when he saw feliks come in.  
“feliksas!” he greeted cheerfully.  
“th’fuck d’you want?” feliks muttered, not even bothering to correct him.  
the man swiveled in feliks’ chair and giggled, rolling up his shirt to reveal a set of fresh claw wounds. he seemed weirdly unfazed by the blood oozing from them or the dark bruises on the surrounding flesh.  
“jesus fuck,” feliks mumbled.  
the man swiveled around again, but this time, when he came back to face feliks, his expression was severe again. as he remembered it.  
oh, god. his knees were weak. heat crept up the back of his neck, coloured his cheeks bright red.   
he wasn’t a fuckin’ teenager anymore. why was he so embarrassing?  
he knelt and inspected the wounds. he was a _doctor,_ not a lovesick puppy.  
the man kept thankfully quiet the whole time, even though feliks’ hands were shaky and he kept accidentally touching the bruises, which he was sure hurt like hell. those were the nasty kind of bruises.  
the actual claw wounds weren’t so bad. it was odd that the bruises were around clawing, but feliks didn’t question his patient. luckily the wounds were fresh, and he started cleaning right away.  
the man hissed in pain.  
“shut up, you big baby,” feliks snapped. boy, he was cranky today!  
the man glared at him, but said nothing.  
so that was how it was. feliks treated the wounds silently, and the man said nothing, save a few noises of pain here and there.  
then he was done. the man didn’t say anything as he left. didn’t even thank him.  
he sat in his chair, remembering the cute way the man had spun around in it, his huge grin, like he’d never sat in a spinny chair before. he was so _beautiful._ he wanted to be near him. always.  
feliks put his head in his hands. he was so embarrassing.


	16. xvi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the forest is dark. the moon sheds no light. i want to be found by you and you alone.

feliks had just taken vytautas for a nice evening walk in the woods. nothing more. his knife was tucked safely away at his waist, just in case. but vytautas had managed to get away from him while he was distracted (stupid dog, wouldn’t wear a leash), and then he’d heard a sudden bark.  
then nothing.  
he ran in the direction he was pretty sure vytautas had gone, and finally caught up to him, only to find his dog lying on the forest floor, ripped open. the wolf was delicately picking through the guts on the ground, rooting through with its vantablack snoot. it grasped a fatty hunk of meat in its mouth and looked up to find a place to eat, but it caught sight of feliks first. its eyes were so green. pupilless. just green. endless green orbs. _hungry_ endless green orbs.  
feliks felt sick. bile rose in his throat. but before anything could really happen, the wolf was upon him.  
it was scandalously heavy. feliks had no idea wolves could even be this heavy. but then again, this was no ordinary wolf.  
they struggled. the wolf tried to smother him. it stepped on his soft bits with sharp-clawed paws. it scratched his chest and its breath reeked of blood.  
feliks reached for his knife, but it was hard to grab anything when the wolf kept stepping all over him and shifting its position. it felt like a bad dream. he was pinned. couldn’t breathe. couldn’t move. stuck.  
finally— _finally_ —he managed to slip the knife out of its sheath.  
the wolf sank its teeth into his shoulder, growling lowly. did it mean to eat him?  
didn’t matter. it meant to harm him, kill him, that was enough. he plunged the knife into its flesh where its leg met its body.  
it stopped. stood proud. feliks felt its paw digging into his ribs.  
then it rolled off of him and slunk back into the shadows.  
fuck.  
fuck, everything hurt.  
he had to get home. had to. he’d be eaten otherwise. something would eat him. the wolf, maybe. didn’t matter. he had to get home.  
he had to….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy i got into some shit on tumblr and my hands are shaking im so angry  
> anyway i hope ur day was good :)


	17. xvii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wolves? they are watching you.

he wasn’t dead.  
he should have been dead.  
the wolf. those green eyes.  
he’d stabbed it. there was blood on his hands, he felt it, and his knife was gone. where was the wolf?  
vytautas. the heady scent of blood. the contents of vytautas’ abdomen spilling out onto the muddy ground. the wolf standing silently over him, a fatty chunk of meat in its mouth. hungry green eyes boring into his soul. bile rising in his throat. attack.  
he opened his eyes, shook his head. it was nearly dawn. dim light filtered through the leafy cover. he was wet and muddy and covered in blood. his knife was gone. his dog was dead. he had claw wounds on his chest. those were pretty minor, but he also had a bite wound on his shoulder, and he needed to take care of that asap. he needed to go home, take a shower, treat his wounds. it was saturday. the sabbath. he’d take the day off.  
he got to his feet. his mouth tasted of a sick cocktail of mud, blood and bile, and his whole body ached. taxed muscles, bruises, scratches, scrapes, claw gouges, teeth marks. oh. he hurt.  
he looked at his feet, thoroughly soaked and completely numb, only to discover that his shoes were gone. jesus h. fucking christ.  
that was the last straw. as he plodded home, barefooted, through the wet, cold mud, he cried his eyes out. loud, ugly, heaving sobs. warm, salty tears on his cheeks. he was just so fuckin’ _miserable._ fucking wolf. and his fucking _sister,_ too, for making him come all the way out here. for making him come here and live in this shitty house and work this shitty job in this shitty town. he should’ve been in kraków, drinking too much alcohol and hiring too many prostitutes and crying into his pillow at night. he hated this. hated everything. maybe he should just lie down and die.  
maybe it was some sick drive for vengeance. maybe it was just stubbornness. whatever the reason, feliks pressed on, persistent, even though he was miserable. he would feel better once he got home and took a shower and cleaned out his wounds.  
he made it home without passing out. he was weak, but he hadn’t lost that much blood.  
he felt a bit better after he ate the stale remains of last night’s salad.  
he felt a lot better after he took off his dirty clothes and really scrubbed every last centimetre of him.  
he felt almost good after he bandaged everything up nice and clean.  
then came the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy this is the Mood


	18. xviii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what was the true identity of the young person who wandered into town that day?

there were bloody pawprints on his office walls. bloody handprints. blood everywhere. a pool of it underneath the man lying on the floor.  
pawprints?  
feliks knelt by the man’s side and checked his pulse. normal. he checked his breathing.  
yeah, he was breathing. really loudly, actually. whistling through nostrils stuffed with blood.  
he did a quick assessment of the man’s injuries. he seemed mostly fine, a bit beat-up, maybe, except for the knife sticking out of his chest.  
feliks squinted at it. it was his knife. the one he’d embedded in the wolf’s soft belly.  
holy shit.  
was this man the wolf?  
no. how could he be? people couldn’t be wolves.  
werewolves….  
well. werewolves weren’t real.  
but how, then?  
feliks wanted to rouse him and ask him himself. but that was probably not a good idea. he needed his rest.  
the man blinked his eyes open. “feliksas,” he said, almost relieved.  
feliks jumped back, startled, and nearly flew into his file cabinet. “it’s me,” he squeaked.  
the man’s eyes were so beautiful. deep like the ocean. rippling, changing, storming.  
feliks looked away. “i’m sorry i stabbed you.”  
the man only plastered a thin smile on his face and shook his head. forgiveness. relief washed over him.  
a sudden surge of anger. why was feliks apologizing? this man had killed his dog and tried to kill him! _he_ should be the one apologizing.  
oh. it was those eyes. they told tales of their brainwashing powers. it was too late. feliks had already looked into them too many times. how much had he changed?  
he focused hard on the man in front of him. love. he had asked himself before. was this what love felt like? he was in love.  
it didn’t feel like a soft hollywood movie. this would probably be the part where they kissed, wouldn’t it?  
feliks was _not_ kissing those lips. they were all bloody. ew.  
vulnerable. he felt vulnerable. he didn’t like it. maybe he should just leave him. go home and leave him to die so his beautiful green eyes couldn’t ruin his life any more than they already had.  
“you’re a dirty liar,” feliks hissed. “a cheat.”  
the man smiled pleasantly. he didn’t seem upset.  
feliks jabbed a finger in his face. “you hear me? you _made_ me fall in love with you. you’re a coward and i’m going home.”  
the man watched him get up without reacting, but just as feliks’ hand hovered over the doorknob, he rolled over and said, cheekily, “but you love me.”  
it was the first time feliks had heard him say anything but his name that didn’t sound completely fake. he stopped and turned, slowly. did he? well. no time to question it anymore. “yeah, i love you. you made me—”  
the man shook his head. “didn’t.” he blinked, and it seemed almost in slow motion, long, pretty eyelashes sweeping over his rough skin. his eyes were so green. he adjusted his position and groaned.  
then he gave a sharp smile and added, “love you too.”  
feliks felt like he was melting. his skin tingled.  
the man pushed himself up onto his elbows and groaned again, louder.  
love. was this love? feliks didn’t know. he wasn’t well versed in romantic matters. had never read lovey-dovey stories or watched romantic comedies. didn’t read poetry. didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like. happy, he guessed.  
he didn’t feel happy. but did he ever?  
he wanted to help him. wanted to keep him alive. was that love?  
love was too hard.  
he whisked back over to where the man lay, frowning. “don’t move. i can’t let you die.”


	19. xix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s the like one sorta sexual bit

thighs rubbing under the sheets. sharp nails scraping flesh. near-inhuman grunts and cries. loud moans and soft words.  
“i love you,” a voice murmured into the darkness.  
a secretive smile, sharp like the untrimmed nails leaving gouges on the flesh of his back. impossibly green eyes raking over smooth, supple skin. “i know,” was his response, tongue flicking across his teeth. soon, he thought. he was so hungry. he could hardly wait that long.  
his sharp teeth ghosted across an exposed throat. he inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of the man beneath him—vanilla and strawberries. oh. delicious.  
soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s not a happy ending but like i said this is me projecting and honestly i WISH i had a hot werewolf gf even if she wanted to eat me  
> anyway my next project is [here,](celestialfanfiction.tumblr.com) check it out i guess  
> edit: my main tumblr’s @txlys if u want, hmu there but also i might not respond to you bc i have 2 accounts

**Author's Note:**

> chapter titles from [mysteriessuggestion](http://mysteriessuggestion.tumblr.com) unless otherwise stated.  
> all chapters already written.  
> expect regular updates.


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